


Poetry How She Pole Dance

by th0ughtcrimes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Amputee Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, F/M, Protective Bucky Barnes, Stripper Reader, all the bucky tags, it's not in the story but bucky's bi ok, like he reads as straight but i promise he likes dick too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28833789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/th0ughtcrimes/pseuds/th0ughtcrimes
Summary: Bucky sighs. He doesn't want to be here. In fact, he wants to be alone in his apartment with his cat. But Steve and Sam dragged him (practically kicking and screaming) out here after he told them that he just hadn't felt any interest in women since he came back after his discharge.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	Poetry How She Pole Dance

It’s been a long night, but you’ve made good money. A man just approached you, asking about how much an hour would cost in a private room with you. You’d given him a sweet smile, sticking to your stage persona of _Baby_ , and told him the rates.

You’d told him to give you a few minutes and then you’d meet him and he’d corrected that it’s for his friend with a wink.

“Buck, come on, we bought you a room,” Sam drunkenly slurs out.

Bucky sighs. He doesn't want to be here. In fact, he wants to be alone in his apartment with his cat. But Steve and Sam _dragged_ him (practically kicking and screaming) out here after he told them that he just hadn't felt any _interest_ in women since he came back after his discharge.

They steer him over to a room with a door that’s covered in a curtain.

He sighs again, pacing through the room while he waits. He hates this. First of all, he finds this whole thing gross. He respects the ladies big time, but something about the practice of strip clubs rubs him wrong. Second, he doesn't want Steve and Sam to drag him somewhere just so he can try to get it up. But they did.

You enter with a sweet, but sultry greeting, looking the man up and down. It takes you a moment to figure out why his left jacket sleeve looks so… deflated. He must be missing it, you figure.

“Look, my friends they- All due respect, ma’am, but I really… don't want to be here. You don't have to- have to do anything. I’d really rather you didn't.”

You listen as the man rambles a bit bashfully, feeling an odd sting of rejection. What?

Your eyes get a bit watery as you realize you’ll lose a much needed $200 if he wants his money back.

“So do- do you want your money back?”

“No, no, of course not. It’s yours ma’am. It’s not even my money,” the man quickly says.

“Uh, you have- you have an hour with me,” you let out a nervous chuckle, “Um, I’m so sorry, no one’s ever done this; I’m not quite sure what I’m supposed to do. And- and I’m kind of nervous my boss is gonna peek in and see me not working.”

He chuckles nervously, too, scratching the back of his neck, “I mean, what do you normally do for this kinda thing?”

“Lap- lap dances, mostly,” you blush.

You’re so out of your element right now. This man, he’s devastatingly handsome now that you’re really looking, and now he’s caught you terribly off guard. The normal protection of your persona has crumbled away, leaving you feeling a bit vulnerable, quite frankly.

“Can- can sit on my lap, then,” he says. “Then we can talk, sweetheart. It’ll be fun.”

It’ll be fun? What the hell?

He gives you a reassuring smile that he’s as out of his comfort zone as you are.

You softly say your name.

He repeats it back, questioningly.

“That’s my name,” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Just don’t tell anyone ‘cause my stripper name is Baby and- and I don't like when people get too familiar…”

He finds himself chuckling, “Sorry, doll, I’ve just… never heard someone say ‘stripper name’ in all seriousness before.”

You laugh softly, too, before stepping over to him, “May I…?”

“Bucky,” he says. “And, yes, you may.”

He nods to his right side and you perch on his leg while he settles his arm around your waist. “That okay?”

You cock a brow, “Least I know you can't unhook my bra so easy… Unless you can do it with one hand, that is...”

Bucky cocks his head.

“Sorry… bad joke,” you scrunch your nose up, kind of embarrassed..

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head, “The joke wasn’t _bad_. I, uh, I only lost it a year ago, so my friends are still kinda treating me with kid gloves about it.”

You furrow your brow before asking, “How do you tie your hair back?”

Bucky’s lip twitches up, “My friend, Shuri. I’m kinda like her mentor, except she’s a whole lot smarter than anyone I’ve ever met. I drive her to school ‘cause she’s not from here and her family’s back home. Her and this little punk, Peter.”

“That’s sweet,” You smile before moving your left arm to loop loosely around his neck. “This okay?”

“‘Course. Did they really buy an hour?”

You grin, “Yeah. $200 for an hour. I can finally schedule check ups for my cat and my dog.”

“They okay?”

“Yeah, but their last check up was a year and a half ago and I’m gettin’ nervous, you know? Especially about my cat since cats usually suffer in silence.”

“I get that. I’ve got a cat. His name’s Alpine,” Bucky says. “He got his check up a few months ago. I’m glad you can get your pets in.”

“So, I’m guessing you’d rather be at home with him than here?”

“I dunno, it seems like the evening is shaping up,” Bucky teases.

You feel your cheeks grow warm, ducking your head.

“Sorry,” Bucky says bashfully. “Always been a flirt; I promise there’s nothin’ to it. I’m sure you want a break from the kinda guy that usually comes back here…”

“You're the nicest guy that’s ever been back here. You're allowed to flirt a bit,” you bring your other arm up around his neck. “You're sweet.”

Bucky blushes.

“And you haven't tried to break the no touching rule once.”

“What does it look like I’m doing now, huh?”

“We can let you break the rule, but you can't break it on your own,” you say. “‘Cause some girls will let people go farther than other girls will and sometimes it’s person by person. Like, I may let you touch my breasts, but not your friends. Which- that wasn't an offer, by the way.”

“Don’t worry, I don't plan on making any advances,” Bucky says.

“Why? Would you try on another girl?”

Bucky cocks a brow, “I wouldn't. Quite frankly, since men love spilling their hearts out to strippers, I just don't… I’m not really seeing women the way I used to. My therapist says it’s depression and a PTSD response. My brain trying to protect me. I can see you're a gorgeous woman and usually my hands may wander a bit,” he chuckles softly, “Nothing too outrageous and if you're not into it, I’d keep my hands off, you know- but now… I don’t have the urge to let my hands- hand… roam. A girl kissed me at a bar last week and I had a panic attack. Honestly, doll, this is the first time a woman has- has been so close to me without me spiraling.”

You open your mouth to reply but freezes when you hear familiar footsteps nearing the door. You giggle and lean in just as the door cracks open.

As you run a hand along his chest, you lean a bit closer to whisper in his ear, “Chuckle and look aroused. Squeeze my waist…”

Bucky chuckles darkly into your ear while squeezing your waist with his rough hand and pulling you a bit closer. Your breath hitches as your cheeks burn. The door closes and you both ease away a bit.

“Your skin’s really soft,” Bucky whispers.

You blush, “Thanks. I hope you can work through your problems. You- you deserve happiness, I think. And… I’m glad I don't make you too uncomfortable.”

“You don't look at me like I’m a freak, which is a good start,” Bucky says nervously. “The woman who kissed me… it was a pity dare type deal…”

An odd feeling of anger fills you, “That’s… how can someone be so awful?! You don't just do that!”

“Hey,” Bucky’s thumb moves, running along your hip. “It’s okay. Save your anger for something that’s actually worth a damn.”

You cup Bucky’s face, concerned now, “I’ve only known you for ten minutes and I can already tell you're worth so much more than that.”

Bucky blinks twice in shock before recovering, “Is everyone here so nice?”

“To me? Yeah. To you? No,” you say. “Helps that I’m the baby and not a thirty year old man, though. Not to- to make you feel weird about being a thirty year old man they just all see me as the baby ‘cause I’m the youngest here…”

Bucky chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “By the way, I’m 35.”

“You look younger,” You say, eyes tracing over his features. “You got a handful of years on me, mister. I’m 25.”

Bucky sighs out of relief, “Honestly, I was getting kind of scared I had, like, a seventeen year old in my lap.”

“If I were seventeen, I’d probably slap you for being a 35 year old with a teenager in his lap,” you tease.

“I’d deserve it,” Bucky nods.

You chuckle before shivering. Usually you’d be working up a bit of a sweat by now.

“You cold, doll?”

“They keep these rooms cool,” you shrug. “I usually don't notice it…”

“Here,” Bucky shrugs his shoulder up to pull the empty sleeve out of his jacket pocket then back to shrug the jacket off his shoulder.

“Do you- do you want help?”

Bucky stops, looking at you, trying to find even a trace of pity. He finds none, so he nods.

You use your left arm to keep yourself anchored so as to not fall from his lap. With your right arm you grab the collar of his jacket and help to drag it down his arm. Once it’s low enough, Bucky shakes it off, expertly catching it.

You grin at the accomplishment. 

“Put this on,” Bucky says softly.

“What about my boss?”

“He ever check on you twice, doll?”

“No. Not me. He- he doesn't find me attractive so he doesn't watch, you know?”

Bucky has to hold his tongue.

“Okay, so you can put the jacket on and warm up. I can’t imagine your little get-up is very warm,” Bucky says.

It’s a simple baby pink, lace bra with a matching pair of underwear and pink heels, but it still turns heads.

But he doesn't rake over you like they normally do when they eventually mention your outfit.

In fact, he looks you in the eyes when he says it.

You blush, shrugging before accepting the heavy leather jacket, sliding your arms into it. You shiver when your left arm touches the cold fabric, but your body is shocked a bit from how warm the rest is. Oh.

“Left sleeve’s cold,” you mumble when Bucky cocks a brow.

A small smirk grows on his face, “Oh, I’m sorry, princess. I’ll just go ahead and grow my arm back to keep my jackets warm for you.”

You giggle, shaking your head a bit, and blushing at the name, “You're annoying.”

“Don't you know it,” Bucky says.

He hasn't been able to joke about it. Once again, kid gloves. Joking about it is nice.

You wrap your arms around his neck again.

“So, you work here long?”

“Few months,” you say. “Got out of a bad relationship and needed the money. Good thing I used to pole dance for fun as a kid. Good workout.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says softly. “Good thing, huh? Do you like it here?”

“I like dancing and I like being paid for it and I like feeling wanted. I like the other girls,” you say. “The clientele isn't the best, though. Dancing for drunk men who eye you like a piece of meat isn’t fun. Being the favorite of the big spenders, that's not my favorite thing but it pays well.”

“Does your boss keep you ladies safe? In case anyone tries anything?”

“No, but a swift kick to the balls does,” you shrug.

“Have to do that often?”

“Every couple months. Actually thought I’d have to do it to _you_ when I saw you paid for an hour. When I walked in I was kinda disappointed, Bucky. Sucks having to kick the pretty ones ‘cause at least they're nice to look at.”

Bucky blushes, “Think I’m pretty?”

You blush now, nodding. “Course I do. Have you seen you? Anyone who has thinks so, too, I promise. Got the dark, broody, long hair thing goin’ on. Very pretty. Very handsome.”

He looks away for a moment, collecting himself.

“No one’s told me they think I’m _anything_ like that since I lost my arm,” He says softly.

“I don't think that changes how attractive you are. I mean, you’ve got enough muscles in one arm for three, so… And you’ve got gorgeous blue eyes and a cute chin and your hair’s really pretty. There’s really no doubt about it ‘cause you just _are_ attractive. Even if people aren't saying it.”

“I used to be a real ladies man, you know,” Bucky says. “Seriously, I only ever struck out with a lady once in the year before I lost it- and that was ‘cause she was married and I didn't notice the ring. She and her wife were nice about it, though. It’s weird going from being so sought after to being invisible.”

“I’d make fun of you for openly saying you were sought after, but I believe it, Buck. Can be rough losing the attention you’re used to. That's really good luck, though.”

“Now it’s always a pity thing. They want to fix the sad looking amputee that’s been nursing the same drink since he got there. I- I don't like to drink ‘cause I don't want to get too bold and end up and a humiliating situation where I can't- can’t… you know. Can’t get it up,” Bucky says.

“Oh, Bucky,” you coo, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't’ve told you that,” Bucky says.

“I’ve heard worse. Once a guy told me he couldn't get it up with anyone but me and ground his erection into me,” you say. “It was gross, I kicked him in the balls and the bouncer threw him out. They come when we yell. Honestly, it’s kind of comforting to not have to worry about feeling someone’s erection while at work. Doesn't make you any less of a man.”

Bucky chuckles softly, “You know just what to say.”

You smile and continue running your fingers through his hair. He hums softly, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Good?” You ask.

“Yeah,” he whispers, sighing happily. “I’m a little touch starved, doll. Case you couldn't tell.”

“I’m happy to keep playing with your hair, if you want,” you say softly.

“That’d be nice, thank you,” Bucky says. “You play with your other clients’ hair?”

“Only when they're as sweet as you,” you say. “So, no.”

The both of you sit in silence for a few minutes, letting Bucky enjoy your touch.

“If you weren't working here, what would you want to be doing,” Bucky asks.

“Writing. Which I can do in my free time if I work here. I’ll quit when I get a book deal, I guess,” you say.

“You're a writer?”

“I guess…”

“Do you write?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“Then you're a writer, doll,” Bucky says.

You chat for the remaining time until the timer goes off. You slips off his lap, sad to have to go. This may have been the best hour of your life yet.

“Thanks for… everything, doll,” Bucky says with a small smile.

You smile back, “Was nice talking to you.”

You shrug off the jacket and Bucky lets you help him back into it, even letting you tuck the sleeve back into the pocket.

“Your friends gonna believe you just got your world rocked or whatever they think goes on in here,” you ask.

“They're just gonna have to, I guess,” Bucky shrugs.

You smile softly, “Here.”

You press a few kisses to his cheeks and mess up his hair a bit.

“Lipgloss’ll wipe off with just a paper towel, but if you don't wash your face, you’ll be glittery for a week,” you say.

“Think it’s my shade?”

You giggle, “Pink and glittery is _definitely_ your shade, Buck.”

You can't stall anymore. You’re sure someone else is waiting.

“It was really nice meeting you, Bucky,” you say. “I hope everything works out for you.”

“Thanks. You're gonna get that book deal,” Bucky says.

“I’m gonna leave and you’re gonna come out a few seconds later with a grin while you adjust your pants, okay? There’s not much going on on the main stage since it’s so late and odds are that they're waiting for you to come out. Bye, Bucky.”

“Bye,” he says softly as you leave.

You were right. When Bucky leaves about thirty seconds later, Steve and Sam are waiting for him, more sober now than they were before.

They both grin as they watch Bucky adjust his pants with a grin on his face as he closes the door behind him.

“There he is,” Sam grins. “ _Please_ tell me that sorted out whatever needed to be sorted out. You feelin’ anything?”

Bucky thinks back on the last hour, “I’m feelin somethin’, alright.”

“Shit, Buck, you got lipgloss all over your face,” Sam says. “Let’s get another drink before we go!”

Steve helps Bucky wipe off the sticky lipgloss, commenting how he’s not quite sure how to get all the glitter off Bucky’s face, because it’s just not coming off.

Steve and Sam have another drink, Bucky sticking to water so he can drive home safely. After they’re done, Bucky calls them a cab and waits for it to get there, when he’s finally got them loaded in, given the driver their addresses, the fare, and a hefty tip for dealing with their drunk asses, he hears a small commotion.

“I’m off the clock; I don't owe you anything!”

He turns and sees you yanking your arm out of a drunk man’s hand.

“Get out of here before you’re banned for life, man,” you sigh, taking a step back. “And before I kick you in the balls. Whichever’s worse!”

The man mutters something under his breath as Bucky walks over.

“Everything okay over here,” he asks.

“Yes, he was just leaving,” you tell the drunken man.

“Oh, awesome,” Bucky says with a mildly threatening smile toward the man. “I guess you're leaving.”

Luckily, the man is too drunk to realize that Bucky is missing an arm, so he doesn't push back. Bucky’s grateful. He doesn't want to beat a drunk guy up in front of you. 

The drunk man stumbles off.

“I was handling it just fine,” you say softly.

“He grabbed you,” Bucky says. “I always step in when things get physical. It’s a rule I have.”

You bite your bottom lip for a moment before giving him a small smile, “Thanks. I’m too tired to deal with men right now. Full offense, some of y’all can be exhausting.”

Bucky chuckles, “I just had to load two drunk men into a cab they did _not_ want to get into. Made we wish I actually had a drink before we left. You off work?”

You look down at your outfit, a pair of shorts and a thin tank top. “Yeah. There's a, uh, a dress code for clothes we wear into work, too. I guess strippers never get cold. Hey, I’m sorry if I’m misreading anything, but, uh would you maybe want to go get some coffee? I know a place down the street. It- it doesn't have to be _anything_ it can just be two friends getting coffee, but I wouldn't, um, I wouldn't mind if it’s something. But, really, it can just be two friends getting coffee; I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

Bucky watches you as you ramble.

“Like a date?”

Bucky doesn't know what else to say.

“Yes? Or just two friends-”

“You want to go on a date with _me_?”

A small smile grows on your face. “Of course, I do. I- I mean, I know you weren't meaning to flirt with me back there, but it worked. I think you're sweet and handsome and I’ve not met anyone who makes me feel seen the way you do in a long time, Bucky. I don't think I’d ever forgive myself if I didn't at least try to go out with you.”

“Can I pay?”

“What? Why would you pay; I’m the one who asked.”

“My ma always told me I should pay for the first date,” Bucky says. “After that, it doesn't matter who pays but on the first date I gotta pay to show you I’m serious.”

“It’s just coffee, Buck,” you say.

“Exactly. I’d like to pay,” Bucky says.

“Okay. You can pay,” you give in.

“We walking?”

You nod, “You know, you don't have to be serious about this. And if you are, money isn't the way to show it.”

“But I am. And for me, it is.”

“Alright, then. It’s settled,” you smile.

Bucky offers his arm to you, and you loop you arm through his, smiling at the fact that he wants you close.

“Do you have a jacket, doll?”

“Was a lot warmer when I left the house this morning,” you say. “Didn’t have time between some volunteer work I do and this work to get my jacket.”

“You have something against being warm, don't you,” Bucky teases, moving his arm and shrugging his jacket off before giving it to you.

“Your ma teach you to be such a gentleman, Buck?”

You shiver again when your skin touches the cold lining of Bucky’s jacket. “Okay, seriously, you gotta install a space heater or somethin’.”

“Arms don’t grow back in a day,” Bucky teases.

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked it please comment and kudos it'd mean a lot to me!!!


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